


felt with the heart

by riverblujay



Series: sightless 'verse [2]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Blind Roman, Blind Virgil, Disability, Disabled Character, Gen, author is trying their best, roman gets cursed, slight angst???, temporarily, the long anticipated (????) sequel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2018-12-15
Packaged: 2019-09-19 19:23:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17007684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/riverblujay/pseuds/riverblujay
Summary: The other sides have adjusted to Virgil's blindness. Things seem to be going well in the mindscape- until Roman is faced with a week long curse that will test all of them.





	felt with the heart

**Author's Note:**

> surprise...? 
> 
> yeah, its been... awhile. honestly, i had planned on waiting to post this until after i finished the entire thing. but you know what??? im craving Validation and this has been in my google docs for weeks. 
> 
> note: still not visually impaired, so if i fuck up, someone tell me. 
> 
> ((title from a helen keller quote cause i was stuck; "the best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or even touched - they must be felt with the heart."))
> 
> (chapter titles are gonna be music terms cause im not creative)

Long story short, Virgil hated magic. 

He hated the uncertainty of it, how it could warp the constants of reality that he depended on so much. Sure, it could be useful at times, but he would much rather stay far, far away from Roman’s realm and the magic that came with it.

Case in point: Roman had been cursed, apparently. 

The creative side had been fighting some enemy or another, and Roman being Roman, had given the enemy  _ magic. _ Which meant whatever villain he had decided to battle just decided to curse him. It wasn’t permanent, but it would certainly be irritating. For Roman  _ and _ Virgil. Roman, because he would have to live with it for a week, and Virgil because what the enemy had cursed the creative side with was a week without sight.

Naturally, that meant Virgil was going to be in charge of kicking Roman in the ass for a week and not letting the creative side mope around in bed just because he suddenly couldn’t see. 

Virgil listened, and he could still hear Roman snoring softly on the couch, so he figured it was safe to get himself a drink of water from the kitchen. As he moved about, he made sure to monitor Roman’s breaths, straining his hearing a little but detecting no change in the soft, rhythmic pattern. Virgil returned to his spot on the floor and his book and continued his nearly silent vigil, fingers gently moving across the braille upon the pages.

(Roman had managed to get basic information out in his somewhat panicked state once he actually made it back to the mindscape. Until he suddenly stopped talking and Virgil heard him collapse onto the floor. With Logan and Patton’s help, Virgil had managed to position the creative side on the couch and the anxious side had taken up residence near him, mostly so Roman wouldn’t be completely panicked upon awakening.)

It had only been… two hours, maybe? It had been just past dinner when the creative side appeared in his frazzled state. Virgil wasn’t sure if Roman would remain unconscious until morning or would awaken during the night, but either way he had positioned himself near Roman in the living room. They could deal with sleeping in their respective rooms tomorrow, Virgil supposed. 

The anxious side refocused his attention on the book (a gift from Logan- it was actually about the stars. Logan had begun gifting Virgil braille books after the other sides discovered his blindness. Virgil had already had a few novels and even some poetry anthologies in braille, but he appreciated the thoughtfulness of the logical side.) 

The other sides had adapted surprisingly well, after the first few weeks or so. Granted, Virgil had needed to remind them of the fact that he wasn’t suddenly incapable of doing anything by himself a few times, but overall the past few months hadn’t been terrible. Things were back to normal, he supposed.

Not that anything about the current situation was normal.

Virgil heard a sudden groan come from Roman’s direction. “Hey,” the anxious side called out experimentally. “How are you?”

“I’ve...been better,” the creative side mumbled. “This is weird.” 

He sighed. “So, since you’re not screaming in confusion, I’m guessing you remember at least most of what happened? All you managed to get out before you fainted- or passed out, I guess- is that whatever villain you were fighting cursed you with ‘a week without sight.’”

“That’s the gist of it,” Roman deadpanned. His statement was followed by a growl from his stomach. 

“Come on,” Virgil stated, setting his book on the coffee table as he stood up. “You should eat. Well,  _ learn _ how to eat. Maybe. Who knows, might just throw together something not requiring silverware.” 

He could hear the sounds of the creative side rising, the way the couch softly creaked as pressure was removed from and added to different places. “Learn?” Roman asked, confused.

“No offense, Roman, but you’re going to realize that you rely on sight more than you think you do over the next week.” 

He made a noise of agreement. Only a second later, though, Virgil heard a soft  _ thunk _ and a startled cry of pain from Roman- the creative side had evidently walked right into the piece of furniture. He refrained from snorting, instead asking, “You good?”

“Just peachy,” he replied, and Virgil could guess from the tightness in his voice that there was likely a grimace resting on the creative side’s face. “Uh…” Roman trailed off, clearing his throat nervously. “Let’s just go.” He made no move towards the kitchen, though.

“Virgil, you idiot,” he mumbled to himself. “Roman?” Virgil asked.

“Yes?”

“This is going to be awkward, but- reach out your arm. I’m going to grab it so that we both actually make it into the kitchen without any repeats of you crashing into things.”

“Oh- that’s actually probably a good idea.”

Virgil waited a second and then extended his right arm, slowly and gently sweeping it in an arc until he found Roman’s own limb. “Okay,” he said, attempting to reassure the other side. “Walk forwards.”

Roman hesitantly inched forward, and Virgil made sure to tell the creative side when to stop- aka, once Virgil could tell that the other had passed the coffee table. Now that that was out of the way, the anxious side was able to pull Roman next to him, hand in the crook of the other’s elbow.

“So it’s about ten feet to the kitchen table,” Virgil began, walking at a slightly slower pace than he normally would. He reached out again, feeling the cool wood of the table underneath his fingers. “I trust you can find your chair?” Virgil asked Roman, hopefully conveying that he would help Roman if he really needed it but also wanted the other side to keep as much independence as possible.

“Sure. Yep. Definitely.” Roman’s voice betrayed him, the words filled with nervousness. However, judging by the quiet sounds of wood moving over tile, he evidently did manage to find a chair to sit in as Virgil began to make food. “Grilled cheese okay?” he asked the other, thinking privately that finger foods really would be easier for Roman than managing silverware.

“Yeah, sounds good.”

And with that, there was silence as Virgil began cooking, bringing out the pan and pouring just a little olive oil into it before using a paper towel to spread it around. He threw the paper cloth in the garbage afterwards and busied himself with the preparation of the sandwiches. When he put them on the stove, he made sure to count the seconds in order to flip the grilled cheeses at the right time. 

Eventually, the food was done and the anxious side put the sandwiches onto plates and set the plates on the table. He went back and washed his hands, grabbed two plastic cups from the cabinet to the right of the sink and filled both with water, hooking his pointer finger roughly two inches down in each so the cups wouldn’t be overly full. 

Walking back over to the table, Virgil set one cup in front of Roman’s seat, which was directly across from Virgil’s own. “Cup’s right in front of you if you’re sitting in your usual seat,” he stated as he sat down himself. The anxious side took a sip of water and a bite of his sandwich.

“How do you always make the best grilled cheeses?” Roman practically moaned. “They’re so  _ good _ .”

“Counting.”

“Counting what?” Roman asked in a confused tone. 

“The seconds. I have it down to an art form,” he smirked even though there was no one to appreciate it.

“Hm.”

And with that, the two silently finished their late dinner. 

“So,” Virgil said after a while, breaking the quiet. “I hope you realize that I’m not going to let you lay around all week.”

The frown was evident in Roman’s voice as he replied, “I guess?”

The anxious side sighed. “Look, I don’t care that this is only for a week, or whatever excuse you think you can pull. If I can function, so can you.”

“But you’ve been doing this your entire life,” Roman mumbled somewhat petulantly. “I haven’t.”

“I don’t care,” he reprimanded. “This may sound mean, or whatever, but being blind doesn’t make you unable to do anything by yourself. You know this,” Virgil chided, “You’ve been understanding of me.”

“Yeah, but that’s  _ you, _ you have experience-”

“Bullshit, Princey. You just have to learn how to do things differently for a week, not give up on doing them at all.”

Roman sighed heavily. “Yes, you’re right, I suppose.”

“Glad we’re on the same page.”

And with that, the two refocused on the meal- snack, really, but who cared?- and the conversation tapered off. 

Hopefully this week wouldn’t be  _ too _ difficult. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> [my tumblr](https://pastelvirgil.tumblr.com)


End file.
